Porcelain Hood
by BabyAlyx96
Summary: When the Laboratory Fume Hood dies, Greg decides to hide out in the break room where Grissom finds him. The time between entering the room and leaving could change the perspective Grissom has on some people.
1. Fumes Are Chasing Me

**A/N:** Muwaha! Sorry, I keep saying that lately. This is just a little story I came up while surfing the official CSI website, looking at all the neat objects they use. I came across the Stationary Laboratory Fume Hood and immediately this popped into my head. So, hopefully you enojy. Incase you don't know what this Fume Hood does, it just vents out the fumes and stuff to protect analysts, like Greg, from being harmed. Nifty.

**Dedications:** Okay, I've gotta mention Sarah, aka bear72724, because not only is she my beta-reader but she helped make this story better. I was stuck in a rut, With nothing but- Okay I'm stopping this rhyme now. She just helped me out with some parts of the story, so yeah. Kudos to her!

**Rating:** G because nothing really happens that would call for a higher rating. Just a little rant, but not swear words or anything.

**Summary:** When the Laboratory Fume Hood dies, Greg decides to hide out in the break room where Grissom finds him. The time between entering the room and leaving could change the perspective Grissom has on some people.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing in this story, it all belongs to whoever owns the rights to the show CSI, Mr. Jerry B. and Mr. Anthony Z.

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Upon entering the break room, Grissom came upon a solitary figure leaning against the counter, coffee mug pressed against their lips. He glanced at his watch, and then realized that no lights were on, making it hard for him to see the numbers. With a quick movement, he flicked the lights on and was met by a groan. Looking up at what was once only a figure, he saw Greg Sanders rubbing his eyes.

"You should warn somebody when you're about to turn the lights on. You might ruin their plan of attack." Grissom ignored the words as best he could, the voice still entering his brain and echoing in the back. His attention was grabbed by the lines on the young man's face, as well as the shadows under his eyes.

"Greg...Is something the matter?" By the look of confusion settling upon Greg's face, Grissom realized that the lab tech had no idea what his face looked like at the moment. Before he could respond, however, Grissom was asking another question. "Have you been getting any sleep lately? Something placing stress on you, perhaps?" A small laugh reached his ears as Greg shook his head.

"Nothing is stressing me out, don't worry. I have been getting sleep, as a matter of fact, but not in the past twenty-four hours as I pulled a double yesterday." There was a pause as he lifted the coffee cup back up to his lips, taking a sip, and a thoughtful look came over his face. "No, wait...I lied. I got an hour sleep awhile ago, nothing to process." Grissom nodded and headed towards the coffee pot. Then, as if remembering why he had turned the lights on, he looked down at his watch.

"Why are you in here, Greg? Your break is in another half hour. If you just wanted coffee, take it back to your lab." He gave one of those, 'Get-Back-To-Work-Now' looks before reaching for the pot and a mug at the same time.

"I know, I know. However...the Laboratory Fume Hood decided to go on a little vacation, so the DNA lab is currently shut down to people not wearing plastic suits." Grissom immediately stopped pouring his coffee to turn and look at Greg, making sure he had head him correctly. The casual manner in which Greg had divulged the information made it sound as if it was only an excuse to not work.

"The Fume Hood died?" began Grissom, a slight pout to his lips and eyes wider at the thought. "How?" Then he remembered the most important thing of all, "And the evidence-" The starting of his rant was cut short by the sight of Greg's hand in his face, however, silently showing him to stop.

"Don't worry, the evidence is fine." He hastily pointed towards the table, and when Grissom looked he saw bags spaced evenly out on top. "I made sure I got it all before calling the experts. Be happy, because if I die from toxic fumes, you'll know why." Upon hearing the teasing tone, Grissom gave Greg a small smile and resumed pouring his coffee.

"Thank you, Greg. That was very..." There was a pause as he thought of a word that would not only mock Greg, but also show that he admired Greg for who he was. "...heroic of you." He didn't even need to look; he knew that goofy grin Greg was famous for would be in place. It always was when either he was excited, making jokes, or accepting praise. It was almost as if he could feel the grin radiating from Greg, like you knew somebody was behind you even if you couldn't hear them. Scientifically, it was impossible to feel such a thing as a grin unless pressed against your body, but putting that aside for once in his life, Grissom settled with the fact that not everything could be explained by science.

"As I knew it would be." There was a small pause as Grissom waited for the words to come. "Do you think Sara will go out with me now?" It took a lot to be able to stifle the laugh that fought so hard to be released. Once he had it under control and only down to a smile, he shook his head and turned his eyes onto Greg.

"Not a chance, Greg." Grissom furrowed an eyebrow, and took a sip of the coffee he now recognized as Blue Hawaiian. "Why do you insist on pestering Sara for a date?" It was something he had been wondering a lot these days. Sometimes he had found himself envying Greg, as he would never be able to ask Sara out to dinner.

"I thought it'd be obvious, Mr. CSI." Grissom, in response, merely raised an eyebrow, and waited for Greg to continue. Not being able to keep the smile off his face, Greg shook his head and took another sip of coffee. "I figured if Sara actually accepted one of these days, you'd finally realize what you're missing and proposition her with something better." Grissom stared at Greg in surprise, watching the boy's eyes slowly look at him, as if waiting for a reprimand of some sort.

"And why would I proposition her?" Greg, realizing he had gotten away with his remark, rolled his eyes and snorted softly.

"Because you have the 'hots' for her. Everybody knows it, even Sara, and you're too afraid to do something about it." Grissom was completely stunned, although that was becoming the norm with Greg. Nobody had ever brought this topic up around him, and it surprised him even more that Greg, the one who was intimidated by Grissom, was the one to do so. And rather bluntly, at that.

"I do not have the-" His denial was interrupted, however, as Greg pushed away from the counter, shaking his head again. "If you continue shaking your head, you're going to get brain damage." Greg turned and looked at Grissom, complete seriousness intact.

"I suppose you've shaken your head a few too many times then, huh?" Grissom was taken back by the forcefulness of the words; this side of Greg had never been shown to him before. "Because from where I'm standing, you've got this awesome girl waiting for you day and night, hoping you'll do something before she's gone forever. She tried once before, and you shot her down. She isn't going to try again anytime soon for fear of her heart getting trampled all over a second time."  
  
Greg took a few steps towards Grissom, eyes shining slightly in the light. "You need to get over whatever is holding you back, whether it be work or some phobia you have, because she's going to find somebody else who loves her for who she is and would do anything for her."

"It seems as if you have a lot of experience with this..." Grissom knew Greg was right, as did Greg, but he was still in shock from being told off. It wasn't everyday it happened, and when it did, it was usually Catherine doing the lecturing. He watched as Greg ran his free hand over his face and shrugged.

"Maybe I do, and maybe I don't want what happened to me to happen to a friend of mine. I'm just trying to look out for you, as well as Sara, and by doing that, you need to be aware of how stupid you're acting." A sigh escaped Greg's lips as he placed his empty mug on the counter.  
  
"Remember when you told me that you'd be around if I ever needed to talk?" Grissom nodded, remembering the days Greg had returned after the lab explosion. "Well, the offer is being reciprocated." With that said, Greg turned and exited the room, leaving Grissom with his thoughts.

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Liked what you read? Leave a review and tell me what you thought, even if you didn't like it too much! If you weren't a lover, please be kind and tell me what was wrong. I aim to please! Loves.


	2. Flying Thoughts

**A/N:** Here is what I like to call, the second chapter of the first. Very orginal, huh? Anyways, my beta, who this is of course dedicated to, ran an idea by me while reading through the first chapter. To please her, I made another to add the tiny bit in. And you know what? It's not even in the chapter! Oh gosh, I just realised that. Oh me oh my...

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing that is associated with or contained in this story. That all belongs to the wonderful (Ha!) people over at CBS, Mr. Jerry B. and of course, Mr. Anthony Z.

**Summary:** Once again, there is a confrontation. Maybe I'm taking this thing a little too far. Anyways, panic ensues for some people (Bet ya can't guess who) and yeah.

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He knocked lightly on the already opened door; knuckles against wood. He hoped, if only for a second, that Grissom would go temporarily deaf and not hear the knock upon his office door. Greg even hoped, while standing frozen in the doorway, that the eyes of his boss would not glance upwards, silently investigating his body language. That was something that always made Greg look himself over before visiting Grissom. Those eyes were always scrutinizing something, wanting to know the secrets of whatever lay in their direct path.  
  
However, with every hope and wish that ran through his body, Grissom hadn't gone deaf and those eyes did look up. The look was there, as it always was, and maybe he even saw confusion in them. Greg remembered the last conversation that had taken place between the two, and understood why confusion would be woven in the look. He had left Grissom standing in the break room with the words, _"Remember when you told me that you'd be around if I ever needed to talk? Well, the offer is being reciprocated."_ echoing in both their minds. Grissom was the one who was supposed to be looking for someone to talk to, not the other way around.  
  
"Come in, Greg." Grissom's words were soft, almost questioning yet understanding. In Greg's mind, Grissom was an oxymoron of many. His expressions, his mannerisms. It was all one big contradiction, and maybe one way was the way Grissom truly was and the other was when Grissom realized how he was acting and remembered the right way. Whether his theory was true or not, Greg didn't know and wasn't about to find out anytime soon. It was hard enough for him to even step near this office ever since yesterday. Heck, he had been so afraid to take one step out of the DNA Lab that he had bribed Archie with a five dollar bill to get him some coffee.  
  
Greg slowly took a step, then another, hesitant as to whether this was the calm before the storm. He had taken a few strips off his boss's back and even though he had been avoiding Grissom as much as possible, he couldn't avoid this. This was what he called looking for help, confiding in somebody other than his pet cat, Adagio. So, silent as possible, Greg settled himself in the chair in front of Grissom's desk and watched the older man write a few more words upon a piece of paper. It was almost like a ballet, the symphonic music playing heavenly in the background, and this man, his boss, putting everything methodically away in their specific spot. Almost was the key word there, as a ballet was more poetic than the mere task of putting pieces of paper into piles.  
  
"What's on your mind, Greg?" He kept the wince from showing on his face, words in a very Grissom-like tone saying what the man would never say. _"Anymore love advice you'd like to share with me? Before I fire you?"_ He was grateful those words would never be heard in reality, as the ones in his mind horrified him enough. However, Greg was the one to come to Grissom, not the other way around. Today wasn't the day he would get fired, unless Grissom was waiting for the end of shift, waiting for everybody to leave so Greg wouldn't have to be humiliated in front of everybody. Then, the next night, when people questioned where Greg was and what happened to the stereo in the DNA Lab, Grissom will explain some story made up previously about some sick mother or sibling. That was how things worked, right? It had happened back in New York, so why wouldn't Las Vegas be any different?  
  
"I..." he paused, the thought of running away as fast as possible from the office entering his mind. Taking a deep breath, Greg willed himself to continue on talking, just like he'd done in the past. Keep rambling until either someone tells you to shut up or you've reached your point. Then the look of complete annoyance Grissom would give him, as he always did, flashed in the front of his mind and decided getting directly to the point would be a much safer plan. If not, the look may dwindle the last bit of self-esteem he was holding onto, down to nothing. "I need a number to a shrink."  
  
To say the shock upon Grissom's face was covered quite well may have been like comparing corn to sheep. It just didn't work because Greg caught the stunned look, watching it settle on Grissom's face for a minute or two, before it was shaken away. The same thing had happened the day before, but only for a second, and if he hadn't been in the room when it occurred, he would have thought it was all a dream. A horrible dream.  
  
The frown now starting to be formed by Grissom's lips unnerved Greg slightly. He wasn't sure as to why a frown would be there instead of the line that his boss's mouth was usually in when concerning the lab tech. The blank look, masking emotions, would have been something he was accustomed to, but this concern that was making its way forward. The whole concept was starting to freak him out, to say the least, and as the thought of how much of a stupid idea this was, Greg began to lift himself out of the chair.  
  
Why couldn't he have just opened the phone book and looked for the psychiatrist himself? At the time, back in his lab, he had come to the conclusion that Grissom would know an exceptional shrink. Why Grissom would have a shrinks phone number handy, he wasn't sure, but that was then, when all ideas seemed great. Nothing was ever thought out, with each possibility, good and bad, in mind. His World was what many people called it, where everything worked no matter what. Mostly, he left them to believe whatever they wanted while sometimes, he agreed. A lot of his ideas were so stupid that even he wondered what chemical he'd been sniffing.  
  
"Sit down and tell me why you need a shrink." The demanding but soft words interrupted the current motion he was in, getting out of the chair and away from Grissom. Half out of the chair, and already half turned, ready to run, he turned his head slightly to look. Every emotion that had been shown was gone, leaving the blank face he had come to know, so Greg slowly sat down once more.  
  
Now, faced with the actual task of getting the words out and explaining why he had come, he knew it was a mistake. Mouth open, ready to start talking, Greg knew that whatever was to come out wouldn't be the complete truth. He couldn't tell Grissom, but with those eyes looking him over, Greg didn't doubt the fact that Grissom already knew. It was probably one of those twisted challenges of his, where he knew what was going on, but you didn't, so he asked all the right questions, hoping you'd sooner or later figure it out. Maybe by the ending of this meeting he wouldn't need a shrink after all.  
  
"I've just been having a hard time, you know?" Of course Grissom didn't know because nobody knew except Greg. For about a month he'd kept every dark feeling inside, wishing everything to go back to normal. The doctor at the hospital had recommended a psychiatrist, but once reaching home, Greg had torn the card up and threw it out the window. Unfortunately, his cat had thought it would be neat to also go out the window. Thankfully Adagio wasn't harmed, just a bruised ego after landing in a tree.  
  
Grissom's eyes were once more gazing at Greg, pondering what could happen next. Greg was afraid there would be more questions, as to why he was having a hard time, and so on and so forth. Part of him wished he could tell Grissom, let somebody know what was eating him up inside, but the more dominant part of his brain told him that it was for the best. This way, with Grissom not knowing the truth, there would be no concerned looks hidden in the shadows, behind people's backs. One day someone would notice and then the whole building would know, including their uncles.  
  
"Here you go, Greg." While Greg had been jiggling his leg up and down, mind set on panic mode, Grissom had flipped through his address wheel. It amazed Greg how things could go unnoticed by his eyes while they were happening right in front of his face, and how quiet Grissom moved. Leaning forward slightly, Greg took the card from between Grissom's fingers and glanced down at the writing. A Ms. Felture would be getting a call the next day to set up an appointment for a reluctant patient.  
  
"Thank you." With that said, Greg pushed himself upwards from the chair and started towards the door. The open door. A small wince showed up on his face as he realized anybody could have gone past and heard his request. It must have been obvious what he was thinking as Grissom's words reached his ears once more.  
  
"Nobody went past." A sigh of relief passed his lips as he nodded his thanks. Now it was time to leave, but one more question beat its way to the front of his mind. He struggled to move his feet forwards, a few more steps and he would be home free. However, he felt himself turning to face Grissom again, and found those eyes still staring.  
  
"Have you talked to Sara yet?" The words were out before he could run, before he could clench his fists to occupy his mind. Greg's shoulders sagged as he realized there was nothing he could do now, but stand there and wait for an answer. It was then that he was reminded of what he was worrying about only moments before, and swiftly shut the door. This was something that couldn't be risked being heard by some passer-by. Sara would eventually find out, and if she did, she might not have been too happy to have conversations going on about her behind her back.  
  
"No. Now, I believe you have some work to do." That feeling was back again, the one he had felt yesterday. Annoyance with his boss filled him and when he got annoyed, he got angry. Greg narrowed his eyes and shook his head, wondering what kept Grissom from talking to Sara. The job was important to the supervisor, he knew that, but the man loved Sara, and nothing could stand in the way of love. Some may call Greg a hopeless romantic, but he didn't care because maybe he was, and maybe true love wasn't real, but that couldn't stop a man from trying.  
  
"I'm not going until you tell me a good reason as to why you haven't talked to her, or I'm going to frog march you down that hallway and look for her." A sigh escaped the older mans lips as he leaned forward, elbows now placed on the desk. It was amazing how quickly Grissom could change from a man that looked calm and in control to someone who didn't have a clue as to what to do next.  
  
"I love my job as much as you love girls, possibly more, and I don't want to jeopardize mine or Sara's job with the prospect of starting a relationship." Greg crossed his arms and frowned, knowing that Grissom was doing what he thought was best for both parties, but he also knew that the mans heart wasn't in the decision. It was the way his tone changed when he spoke about the matter at hand, like he was resigning himself to the fact that nothing could ever be.  
  
"Have you talked to Sara about the decision?" There was a brief pause as Grissom glanced at the lab tech, who nodded in response. "Right, sorry. I was being dumb. Of course you haven't talked to her about it." Greg threw himself into the chair in front the desk and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I understand you don't want Sara to lose her job, and that you don't want to hurt her, but you're hurting her even more by engaging in this little game you're playing."  
  
"I am not play-"Greg shook his head, which made Grissom stop the denial. The conversation was starting to become a repeat of yesterday's, only with different words. Another sigh was heard in the room, this time from Greg, plans forming in his mind. Many took place within a few seconds, real time sped up to fit the slotted amount he had. There had to be something that could convince Grissom.  
  
"You love her, and yes I know." Although his eyes were shut, Greg could anticipate the reaction Grissom was about to give at those words. "I know you love your job, but in ten- maybe fifteen- years, who's going to still be there? Your job or a companion?" Opening his eyes, he saw Grissom rubbing his own forehead. Taking that as a sign, he stood up to leave.  
  
While turning the handle to the door, light starting to filter in from the outside corridor, Greg said, "I expect you to be thinking hard about this. And doing something to fix it soon." He paused as if waiting for a response of some kind, but when none came, he muttered a final 'thanks' and left. Light also left as the door was closed again, leaving Grissom to his thoughts.

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**A/N:** Now that you've read it, tell me how you think! Don't be afraid, I won't harm you in anyway. Only nice insults will be tolerated, and hopefully will be the only ones given. Also, if anybody can guess what I did different stylistically, (is that a word?) I'll give you some cookies. Dumbest challenge ever, but it makes me happy. Now review! Please? 


	3. Isn't Some Porn movie

**Authors Notes: This is a really short one, and sorry for the wait. Also, this hasn't been beta'd, I don't think. thinks Nope. So I guess thats three strikes on my part.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. CBS, Mr. Jerry B, and Mr. Anthony Z. own all characters and the shows writers own the scripts. No money is being made of this. Only my ideas are mine and are not used with the idea of harming/offending anyone.**

**Summary: Grissom thinks about what Greg said.**

**Rating: PG with the mention of alcohol. Will I ever write a strictly G story? Ha. No.**

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Violins echoed briefly in his mind, some louder than others, each bringing the heavenly sound to its fullest height. As they grew louder, tension building in the song, his mind turned, concentrating. Words in his mind slowly drowned out the music, whispering commands at him, insults even. His inner mind spoke to him, while memories of words played back. 

He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly, the heavenly once upon a time violins now screeching in his ear. A push of a button stopped the insistent noise, leaving the low buzz of silence to be heard instead. Groaning slightly, he raised a glass to his lips, taking a sip of the burning liquid.

So many words were thrown at him, day after day, and it surprised him how a sentence could make him stop and think. Or was it even the sentence, the meaning of it, but the person who spoke them. It wouldn't be the first time someone he thought he had figured out would do something unexpected. People were not to be dissected, he knew that, but couldn't help the fact that his brain tried to.

Grissom pushed himself out of his chair and around the desk. Nearing the door, he paused, that little voice he'd come to hate whispering tainted words. That voice, he realized, had taken on the tone of his DNA lab tech, Greg Sanders. Shutting his eyes tightly, forcing the voice to go away, he reached for the doorknob.

It was time for him to seek out said lab tech, instead of the other way around. Opening the door, he stepped out into the pristine white that made up the Las Vegas Crime Lab. White and glass, the occasional dark room like his office and the A/V lab. He made his way down the hall, shoes thudding against the linoleum, eyes scanning each room he went past.

There, standing in front of the Headspace Sampler, was Greg Sanders; the man he wanted to see. Pushing the glass door open to the lab, he watched as Greg flicked the machine, each flick getting harder with the next.

"C'mon you son of a..." Greg trailed off as he happened to glance up and see Grissom in the glass reflection. Blushing and coughing slightly, he twirled in his spot to face the supervisor. "I don't believe you had any evidence waiting."

"I'm not here for evidence, Greg." The young man nodded, and Grissom wondered why he became so flustered. He knew that he intimidated Greg, that he made the guy nervous, but as to why, he never found out. With the past days behind them, he would have chalked it up to those conversations, but it had always happened before those incidents.

"I've been thinking about what you said." Grissom watched the young man's blush become more pronounced. Greg opened his mouth, ready to speak, but Grissom got to it before he was able to. "And I agree. I need to do something about... it."

"May I make a suggestion?" He raised an eyebrow at Greg's question. The young man had been blurting out suggestions for as long as he could remember, not once asking if he could do so. "Perhaps you should stop calling it, well... it."

"And what do you think I should call it?" He watched Greg pause and think, eyebrows narrowing slightly, index finger placed against his chin.

"A relationship?" That low buzz of silence had returned. Was this what a relationship was? He didn't think so; thought a relationship involved both parties holding hands, kissing. "You can try to deny the name of it all you want, but there's something going on between you two. It can't be classified as a fling, or a crush, and I don't think you're ready to admit that it's love, so a relationship is the best I can do."

Whatever was going on between him and Sara was definitely not a fling, nor a crush, as a crush was too far down on the scale to express his feelings, even he knew that. Grissom then thought of love. Could it be love? Greg had said the day before that Grissom loved her, but was it true? Was that feeling love?

"Relationship is fine. However, how am I to go about this relationship with Sara." Another pause as Greg stood there, thoughts swirling around in his head. Grissom saw Greg's eyes flicker towards the corridor, causing him to turn and look. There, turning the corner, obviously heading towards the DNA lab, was Sara.

"Meet me in the parking lot after shift. We're going to breakfast, and don't be late." Grissom gave a sharp nod, watching Sara approach the door out of the corner of his eye.

"The guy from the magazine was really cool. Asked me a lot of questions about the science, not just about the famous Grissom." It took a few seconds for Grissom to catch onto the abrupt change of topic, Greg's grin snapping him into place.

"Magazine Greg? You going famous on us?" Sara had entered and had sidled her way up to the men. Greg just grinned and shrugged, changing the subject once more to the evidence Sara had for him. Grissom quietly made his escape, trying to remember how much alcohol he had left in his office.

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**So.. yes. I've been meaning to do this, so here's my thanks to all who reviewed.**

**Sillie:** Thanks! I think Greg is just a big huge softie inside.

**Wintertime:** Greg helping out with GSR is just perfect. Hee. I'm glad you thought that was cute!

**Ashleygirl6:** He needs to start standing up for himself. There's only a few episodes in which he does, I think. But thanks anyways.

**katie:** Thanks!

**thecrazyone357:** Bwa. Greg's problem? I don't even know truly. Well.. If you mean the need of a psych. then I'm presuming the whole Play With Fire episode but maybe there could be more? Hmmm... Thanks!

**witch:** I'm doing more. - Heh. It just may take longer than before considering I'm losing heart for this story. Damn my short attention span. But if you like, always check out my other stories! Thanks for reviewing!

**SaraBlue:** Greg with a serious tone is just, guh... Well, he's like that anyways, but I'm glad you like.


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